


Sirocco

by pippinmctaggart



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Delirium, Dialogue-Only, Drama Llama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Questionable medical assumptions, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-26
Updated: 2004-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippinmctaggart/pseuds/pippinmctaggart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom's an idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sirocco

**Author's Note:**

> Gratitude to [](http://1420.livejournal.com/profile)[**1420**](http://1420.livejournal.com/) for the beta and for answering my endless annoying questions.
> 
> An exercise in dialogue.

"Don't touch me. I said don't touch me!"

"I have to, Dom."

"No! Don't fucking touch me, Billy."

"I have to, Dommie. You know I do."

"No, you can't--don't--don't touch! It'll burn you."

"Shh, Dommie. It won't burn me. This will feel better, I promise, it'll feel cool."

"Cool? Oh God, Billy, I'm burning, it's burning me up."

"It's not burning you up, Dommie. _Jesus_. I won't let it. I'm here with water to put it out."

"No! Don't touch me. It hurts, it fucking hurts!"

"Shh, Dommie. Lay back. Shh. I know it hurts; it's very badly infected. You should have told someone before this fever took hold, you silly wee cunt."

"But I didn't know. It didn't hurt then."

"Don't cry, Dommie. It's all right."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Shh, lad. It's all right. I found it, I saw it, and I've had it seen to. Now you have lovely drugs and you'll be right as rain in no time. Shh. I'm just going to change the dressing now."

"Nooo! Get your hands off me, don't touch me don't touch it don't don't don't--"

"Too late, my wee Dom. It's off. Bloody _hell_ that's an ugly one, isn't it? Now I'm going to pour this lovely cool--"

"Nonono God please no don't--"

"Dom. Dom, listen to me. I swear it won't hurt. Do you hear me? It's not going to sting, I promise you. Are you listening? That's it. Shh. It'll feel good, I promise Dommie. It'll feel lovely and cool and clean and numb. We have to get this clean, Dommie, it's very nasty."

"No. No. I'm so hot, Billy, I'm burning, my skin's on fire. Get these blankets off, don't want them touching me, please off."

"There aren't any blankets, Dom, just the sheet. It's just the fever."

"Tell Viggo. Get him, he'll take it."

"Viggo will take what, Dom?"

"This. This desert, this sirocco on my skin, it's blowing so hot, it's cracking my skin open Billy make it stop cracking me open Billy stop."

"There's no wind, Dommie. Hold still. I promise this won't hurt. Dom, hold still!"

"Oh God, that's cold Billy, it's burning cold--"

"Shh. Try and hold still. I'm done, I just need to put a new dressing on."

"No, don't you fucking touch me!"

"Dom, calm down."

"Don't touch me! Why are you hurting me?"

"I'm sorry, Dommie, I'm trying not to. Next time someone's sword cuts you, have it seen to before you get it filled with dirt, will you?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Billy, I'm sorry."

"Shh. It's all right, Dommie. There, I'm done. Sit up a bit and take these."

"I'm cold. I'm so cold."

"Do you want a blanket? That's it, take them both."

"Yes. Blankets. I can't stop shaking, I'm so cold."

"All right, I'll go get some."

"No, don't go."

"I'll be right back, Dommie, I promise."

"No don't go!"

"I'll be right back. Dom--Dom--sing the drinking song."

"I don't want to sing, Bill. I'm cold."

"Singing will warm you up. Go on, I'll be back before you're done."

"…Hey ho, bottle I go, heal…drown my woe, rain--rain fall, wind may blow, there still be many miles…Sweet is…sweet is…. Billy, I can't remember it. Billy? Billy!"

"Shh. Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain, and the stream that falls from hill to plain, better than rain or rippling brook--"

"Mug of beer inside you, Took."

"That's my wee Dommie. Lie down again. There, you've got two warm blankets. Better now?"

"Don't call me Dommie."

"What? Why not?"

"I hate it. Hate it."

"You do?"

"Hate Dommie."

"Well why didn't you say anything, you wee numptie?"

"I don't know. Didn't wanna--didn't know how--"

"Okay, Dom. I won't call you Dommie anymore."

"Dominic."

"You prefer Dominic? Really?"

"You. Yes."

"Okay, I'll call you Dominic."

"Want the way you say it. Say it, Billy, please?"

"Okay, Dominic. Are you warmer now, Dominic?"

"Yes. I don't miss Mum so much now. No, don't touch me, Billy, please. Well--my hair."

"I can touch your hair, Dominic?"

"Okay."

"Okay. How's that?"

"'S nice."

"Good. Close your eyes, Dominic. Go to sleep."

"Don't let the sirocco come back."

"I won't. It won't. Shh, Dominic."

"Don't go."

"I won't. Sleep."

"Don't touch me."

"Shut up, my wee Dominic. Sleep."

 

 

"Billy? What are you doing here? Oh fuck, am I late for Feet?"  
  
"No, lay down. Welcome back. How do you feel?"

"Tired. Sore. Why?"

"You gave us a bit of a scare, you know."

"I did? Why?"

"Next time you get hurt, Dominic, you fucking well tell someone. Is that understood?"

"What, this little cut? It's noth--why is it all bandaged up?"

"What day is it?"

"What the hell are you on about, Bill?"

"What day is it?"

"Umm…Tuesday."

"Wrong. Thursday. You've been out of your sodding head with a fever for two days. Unfortunately no one noticed at first because you're always out of your sodding head."

"Thursday? But--fuck, we're filming Rivendell today!"

"Lay _down_ , you wanker. They've pushed our scenes back until Saturday."

"But--what the hell happened, Bill?"

"Between getting dirt in that rather deep cut and then rotting inside your fatsuit, you manky bastard, you managed to get a very severe infection. You're lucky you didn't wind up with blood poisoning. Your fever spiked Tuesday night."

"Spiked?"

"104.5. Another half degree and you'd be in hospital, my friend."

"Bugger. I didn't think it was that bad, Billy."

"Obviously. Next time let someone who actually knows what they're doing look at it, right?"

"Yeah. Fuck, Pete must be furious with me."

"No. He's worried. But thanks to you, we all got a lecture about reporting any injuries, however minor. Orlando says thanks for that. Now he's going to be in the first aid trailer every other day."

"Sorry. God, I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Dominic. Here, slide up a bit and take these."

"What are they?"

"Antibiotics. Here's some water."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, Dominic. Done? Okay, I'll take your glass. Why don't you try and sleep again? You look done in."

"Are you pissed with me, Billy?"

"What? No, of course I'm not, you silly git! Why would you think I'm pissed?"

"You keep calling me Dominic."

"Oh, for--"

"Why the hell are you laughing at me?"

"Nothing. No, I'm not mad at you, wee Dominic. Go to sleep."

"I am kind of tired. Sure you're not pissed?"

"I'm sure. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Okay. Good."

"Go to sleep."

"Okay. Thanks, Bills."

"You're welcome. Shh."

"No, I mean it. You're a good mate. Thanks for…watching out for me."

"Dominic?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and go to sleep."

"Okay."


End file.
